Visitation Rights

October is the month of visitations.

Every single weekend in October involves a visit with a long-distance friend. This upcoming weekend my very very best friend Tenae is coming into town for her brother's wedding and while I will have to share her with family, we will still be able to spend some time together, including some lindy hop fun. Tenae and I have been friends for almost nineteen years, and we still never get tired of each other, as evidenced by our cell phone bills and the amount of money I have spent on plane tickets. Three hour phone conversation: $12. Plane ticket to Hawaii: $350. Time spent with best friend in whole wide world: Priceless.

The following weekend is the Lauren Winner conference, and while Lauren and I aren't personal friends yet, I am sure that by the end of the weekend we will be bosom buddies. I have already read her memoir more than once, so we have a good start. Also, the fabulous Linda will be returning from her Alaskan adventures that weekend. Fortunately for us, she will be staying in town longer than a day before gallivanting off to her next excitements of Kenya, Switzerland, and San Francisco. Can't keep that girl down!

Then-wait for it-on the 17th Matt Schaar arrives. When Matt left Quest and Seattle for B school long ago he promised to visit soon but with all his trips to South Africa and Jamaica and wherever else he has been, he has not deigned to grace us with his presence until now. Matt and I became good friends on a day trip to Leavenworth for some Oktoberfest action a couple of years ago, and he's been keeping life crazy fun ever since. He is also known for giving me my nickname of "Reebok". No one knows why he called me that, since I don't wear hightops anymore and I am not an athlete, but Reebok I have become.

And finally, on the last weekend of October, I myself will be traveling to visit my college roommate Hilary. Hilary also traveled about the world after school, going to Scotland for one master's and Philadelphia for another. She also picked up a fabulous husband in Philly. Now they have moved to Bloomington, Indiana so said husband Jon can pursue his doctorate in astronomy. They're big on higher education, these two. They talk about Karl Barth over pancakes at IHOP.

While I have a wonderful group of friends in Seattle, and can't ever see myself leaving this city for permanent residence elsewhere, I do miss my long distance friends and sometimes find myself jealous of their jetsetting ways. I have also always preferred in person conversation to phone or email, and the fact that I haven't seen Hilary in over two years is just a travesty. So I am understandably excited for this month of October. I'm glad that the September insanity will give way to the October fun. I just hope I have the energy after this month to keep up with my fabulous friends!

Bailout Schmailout

It's been awhile since I blogged on financial matters and the markets. Too much has been going on in my life and on Wall Street to make sense of the insanity. And it truly is insane: people are actually taking negative yields on treasury bills. They are paying to have their money invested, more willing to take a small sure loss than a chance at an even bigger possible loss.

And it is all insane according to one popular definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. The government continues to try to provide more credit to huge failing companies and cheaper credit to the market, when credit is what got us in trouble in the first place. Our entire economy has become based on credit and derivatives, and this is where it has led us.

I enjoyed reading Robert Kiyosaki's brief article on the bailouts, as well as this blog equating it not with socialism (as many have said) but with fascism. If you want to read whole lot of interesting perspectives on this stuff, from balanced critique to conspiracy theory craziness, go here. Some of it will make you roll your eyes, but some will make you think.

While I understand why the government has taken the steps it has taken because of the general market panic, the fiscal conservative in me is appalled at the amount of national debt we have just taken on. Being much happier as a debt free person, the fact that my government is in debt up to its eyeballs scares the bejeebies out of me. And when we can't pay our teachers what they are worth, can't provide adequate social security funding, and have two presidential candidates spouting about how they will make our lives so much better with their competing tax plans, I shudder to think what will happen when the bill for all of Paulson and Bernanke's efforts shows up in next year's budget. Make no mistake my friends: whomever gets elected, taxes are going up, or inflation is going up, or both. Most likely both.

I don't have much to add to the discussion except this: awhile back I laughed at one columnist who said that the way to beat the market and inflation was to invest in commodities: not silver or gold, but toilet paper and canned goods. That's a pretty extreme position, but with the wild markets, the panicked calls I keep getting from clients, and the nonsense coming out of politician's mouths, it makes me want to go invest in a couple of cases of Charmin.

Today is the Day

I've been talking about moving for so long it seems unreal that the day is finally here. I've been signing leases, getting keys, packing boxes, moving a few carloads-but today, today I move my bed and tonight I will officially sleep at a new address. It is a fabulous but bittersweet day.

I moved home the summer after my junior year of college. It was not the home I grew up in-we had moved to my grandma's house the September that I started at SPU. I had a bed in my grandma's room that I would sleep in on breaks, and now I was her roomie. When it became clear that I was not moving out anytime soon, they moved some things around in the basement, whitewashed the stone foundation walls, and my hole was created. It is truly a hole: behind the pantry shelves, under the stairs, with no door and one small window that doesn't open. Just call me Henrietta Potter.

I needed to be home at that time in my life. I had broken up with my almost-fiancee, given up my plan of getting a teaching degree, and was generally depressed and uncertain about life. God and I had a lot of anguished conversations in my hole. A lot of fear, anger, hurt, and confusion was poured out in my journal and on my pillow. But healing also came; joy and acceptance were found in my hole where I slept next to the hot water heater and the furnace.

My family had a lot to do with that healing. When you are lonely, the sight of four young boys rushing the door when you come home from work yelling, "Becca's home!" can give you an amazing amount of encouragement (not to mention the hugs they lavish on you when you do actually get in the door). So many nights my mom stayed up late with me as I processed and cried, giving me advice and comfort. So many times my dad has rescued me with rides to work or a morning cup of coffee and love. So many times my grandma would speak quiet words of wisdom that would change my life.

When people looked at me strangely for saying that I lived with my family, that there were eight of us in one small three-bedroom, one-bathroom house, I tried to explain these things. But after awhile I would just smile indulgently and think to myself, they just don't know. They haven't had my mom's pancakes or my dad's fried egg sandwiches. They haven't played cards with my brothers or listened to my grandma make scandalous comments on the good looks of my guy friends.They just don't know.

I didn't always appreciate it either. The weeks when all I did was work and come home, work and come home, work and come home-these weeks I wallowed in too much self-pity to see the blessings I had. But the more people I meet and the more time I spend away from home, the more I realize how unique it is to have such a great family that you are able to enjoy living with.

Perhaps it is because I realize this blessing that now is the time to move. I have thought about it before. I have had offers before. I waited, wanting the right time and the right people. And I have found them. I have a lot of peace about this move (even though life in general is nothing like peaceful right now). I recognize what I am gaining and what I am losing, and I make this choice not out of a desperation to get out or move on, but because my roots are firmly planted in this thriving family I have.

I will miss a lot of things. I love the drive from Burien to Seattle up the Alaskan Way Viaduct (yes, I love the viaduct!) because of the view of the bay. I even wrote a poem about the drive in college (no, you can't read it. It was horrendously bad poetry). I'll miss waking up to the sounds and smell of fresh coffee brewing. I'll miss coming home and finding the family at dinner, with a place for me at the table. Sneaking into my brothers' room and tickling the giggles right out of them. Having my youngest brother wake me up on a Saturday morning by jumping on my bed.

Yes, even that.

But now I will move in with fabulous gals into a fabulous house near a fabulous lake. I will be able to drive home in a few minutes instead of half an hour when I am at a friend's house late at night. I'll have a place to invite friends over to cook for them. And I'll even have a door (although somehow I still ended up in the room under the stairs, go figure).

So today is the day. I am beyond excited about what I will gain. But I am aware of all I will lose. As with any life change, it is a bittersweet blessing. But it is a blessing.

One Year Later

Last year on September 10th, I got up early, put on my best suit, and rode the bus and an elevator to the 21st floor of the main building of LUBI for my first day as a sales assistant. Within a couple of months, I had upgraded my title to "registered" sales assistant, reflecting the untold hours I devoted to studying for and passing the multiple licensing exams needed for a financial advisor. Now, here I am, a year later, happily settled in this job that I agonized for weeks over accepting.

I think we can all agree that taking the job was a very good idea.

Stress levels? Down. Income? Up. Schedule? More flexible. Opportunity in the world of finance? Much broader. Overall employee satisfaction? 73.6% higher.

I've learned more this past year about markets and economics than I ever could in a college course. And while I feel competent in my job, I am still intellectually challenged on a day to day basis by customers wanting to know what the @#$% is going on with the markets (don't ask me, nobody knows). I also feel more valued as an employee than I had in the past couple of years, even though I am now "just" an assistant as opposed to a manager (further proof that titles means nothing to your leadership ability or potential).

This position, like my entire time at LUBI, was surprise, and a blessing. I have no idea what the next stage of my career entails, or if this will be my last hurrah in the banking world before I settle down into my true calling as a church secretary. But I do know that I am still enjoying myself, and I still feel that I am walking the path God has set for me. I have no idea where the path may lead (although I have some wishes) but I trust that it will be a good journey.

Spice Girls

September is going to be officially INSANE.

I was asked about a week ago in a meeting what was going on in my life, and my answer included:

1. Being part of the planning team for the Faith & Gender depth class and Lauren Winner conference (more about that in a minute)
2. Getting ready for another year of C group
3. Leading Life Together and recruiting more folks for the LT leadership team
4. Being on the WAC (Worship Advisory Council) and helping with 5pm setlist/team scheduling
5. Moving (something I haven't done in over six years)
6. Other assorted things in life, like dance lessons and trying to meet regularly with a girlfriend to "verbally process"

After listing these off, the WAC members looked at me in a mix of disbelief and horror and pronounced that I had too much going on.

What else is new.

I am trying to learn how to say no and choose carefully how I spend my time. It just happened that a few things I couldn't say no to all ended up in the same month. They are all really really good things. I'm definitely looking forward to Lauren Winner, who wrote one of my favorite books, visiting Quest. I am excited about C groups and Life Together starting again, I am beyond excited about moving, and leading worship is becoming one of the most fulfilling things in my life.

That being said, I tried very hard to get out of leading worship this past Sunday. I knew it would be a busy weekend, what with the Life Together Summer BBQ and all. I also knew I was starting to burn out and needed a break. However, the other worship leaders (and almost the entire team) were out of town, which left me to hold down the fort. Mattsy called it "Rebecca Torture Sunday". While it wasn't quite that bad, it was looking a little dicey there for a second.

Fortunately the fabulous Jessica and the equally wonderful Melissa came to the rescue, and the three of us led worship with no problems. Jessica plunked down some amazing guitar skills and taught us a new song, and we finished practicing in a record half an hour, allowing us to go relax over some coffee before church. With Jess taking lead I got to bust out some high harmonies, which I don't get to do too often, and all in all it was a good Sunday.

The only unfortunate thing was that both George and Matt kept referring to us as the "Spice Girls." Despite my contradictions, it came up in multiple emails. Jessica and Melissa also protested the moniker and insisted that we were more like Dixie Chicks or TLC, but the boys liked their idea too much to listen. It got to the point where I was being sent lyrics to "Wannabe", including a new verse:

If you wanna be a worship leader
you gotta be George's friend
making lots of music
and singing in his band....

Thanks for that one Matt. Really, there's nothing you can say to respond to that.


Anyway, it was especially cool to lead worship with two other fabulous strong women of God because of this Faith & Gender class that we are putting on. Jessica is on the planning team with me and we were joking about how we were a walking, singing commercial for the class. She said we should have made an announcement: "Wanna know why this is ok for us gals to lead you in worship? Come to Faith & Gender!" While it doesn't seem that crazy at Quest for three women to lead worship, in some church traditions, it might be questioned. And throughout history, it certainly would have been a scandalous thing-I can hear Tertullian yelling about the sinful daughters of Eve as I write this.

Although coming from a very conservative home, I was always encouraged to be a strong, independent woman. I am the first female in my family to have a bachelor's degree. My mom, who will be the first one to tell you that submission in marriage is part of God's design, is herself a fiery woman who isn't afraid to speak her mind. She more than anyone has taught me how to be strong yet gentle. But as I work through the readings and Scriptures we are bringing out for the depth class, I find myself struggling to articulate my own point of view on Biblical gender roles. I am proud of my female pastors, proud of being a woman in leadership at church, aware that my own ministries and callings would have been denied to me at other points in the history of the church. But I also see the beauty of my parents' marriage, and I am challenged by the Scriptures and how to interpret them.

The other big questions that keep coming up for me are, what is my role as a single woman? How do I express my sexuality? How do I reflect my wholeness in Christ while also acknowledging my deep desire to be a wife and mother? These are questions I seem to have trouble finding answers to. Books on Christian sexuality seem limited to telling us the importance of being chaste. Well, I know that, and I am pretty darn chaste, let me tell you. But I am also a real flesh and blood person. I don't have a sexuality switch in my head that I can keep in the 'off' position until I say my I dos. And I don't feel that singleness or celibacy are my calling, AT ALL. But I also cannot stand these books with titles like, Waiting For Her Isaac. I'm sorry, but I think that God has more for me to do than just sit around waiting for some man to come calling.

But I really do want one to come calling.

Sigh...so many questions, too few answers, and no time to sit and think and research and reflect. I am looking forward to the discussions in this depth class. While I know that not all my questions will be answered, at least we will bring up the issues, and I think I will find that I am not alone in having these questions (if the reaction from the women I have already talked to about it is any indication, it seems to be a common concern). As I seek to be more myself, more as Christ would have me be, I welcome this opportunity to explore these things with my church community.

But after this, I really am going to get better at saying no.